Idv Novels & Stories

He walked me back to the couches before he said, "He's not a psycho or anything. I promise." I sat down and so did he. "Do you remember that video you made during college?" Alec asked. I sat back on the couch to think for a moment and Alec did too. "Oh! Yeah! The promotional video that was posted on the school website to encourage more women to attend my private college." I said. Alec nodded in agreement before he said, "Well if you remember? That video went viral on I*******m. My master saw it as a suggested video that he may like because he donates funds to your private college."

I retorted. "Then stop feeling sorry for yourself. So what if you're a bitch? So what if Rowan is in a private school? He's getting the best education anyone could want. He wants for nothing. He's healthy, strong, and a good kid. You did a good job, Ivy."

he murmured, his eyes soft and pleading. Ivana stared back intensely, waiting for an explanation. “Think about the money, babe. This could set us up for life. Remember the business you—” “I’d rather work my ass off to earn it,” she spat, pulling her hand away. “Davis, I couldn’t even hurt a fly, let alone a person. I can’t.” Ivana paced angrily in her small apartment, arms crossed tightly under her chest. She watched as Davis leaned toward Lilico, whispering urgently. Their conversation quickly escalated into a heated argument.

She should want to leave. Because Isla Green was a problem. A big fucking problem. Not only to the entire school. To me. I braced both hands against the tiled wall and let the cold water run down my back. My breathing stayed controlled, but something restless kept pacing under my skin. I had seen the look on her face when I told her she was leaving soon. That stubborn little lift of her chin. She wasn’t like others. She didn’t back down. She didn’t flinch. She stared right back like she had every right to be here.

After having been missing for many years, my biological parents found me at the age of sixteen. By that time, there was already someone else living in the family home who had taken my place as the Johnston family’s daughter. My parents, my older brother, and my fiance said warningly, “Don’t you dare act spoiled or entitled just because you’re a Johnston by blood. Also, don’t cause Hannah one ounce of trouble.” The entire family prioritized Hannah in every matter, which made me seem more like a maid whenever I was with them. For two years, I let them walk all over me, until they decided to use my near-perfect SAT score of 1550 to get Hannah, who had scraped together an 850, into an Ivy Le